


Ruat Caelum

by Davechicken



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Fiat justitia ruat caelum' - Let justice be done though the Heavens fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruat Caelum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElDiablito_SF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/gifts).



The first time I saw you I did not understand. I am not sure I do, even now, but back then I was even more clueless. Life was much simpler for me then. Good and evil. Heaven and Hell. Duty and rebellion. Right and wrong. It was all I had known in the longest time, so of course I saw you and the colours of your red smoke and your black suit told me: demon. Told me: evil. Told me: _wrong_. It was simple. It was easy.

Even then - with my polarised vision, with my eyes that couldn't distinguish between the colour of a gentle spring sky and the ultramarine of a storm squall breaking over the horizon - even then you confused me.

I remember watching and listening, and somewhere underneath the surface wondering _why_.

You had the power in this situation. It's why you could do it... though I think you might even have done it all the same, even if you didn't. You were the only one who could give him what he wanted, this man who had come to barter with you for fame or glory. But he had nothing special, all things considered, he was simply another man.

I shouldn't say or think that of a soul. Of course it is special. Every one is special. Every single one. But it is true, nonetheless, that his was one of a million, billion souls. One that you would most likely collect at the normal time as few who would offer them up at a crossroads would ever go to the other place. My home. Some would redeem, it's true. Or some - like the Winchesters - would offer themselves as sacrifice and squander their immortal afterlife out of some ridiculously miscalculated priority. 

I don't think I will ever really understand why Hell wants to reap souls early. But maybe you like the challenge. Maybe you like the surety, instead of betting that at the last they will relent, repent and be forgiven? Perhaps you enjoy sliding your fingers in the crack around a psyche and tugging, the knowledge that _you_ have made a difference, that _you_ have made them worse.

I cannot ask.

I will not ask.

You did not need to be there. It did not need to be you who sealed the contract - the old fashioned way, with a touch of liar's lips to liar's tongue - a contract that bound you both forever. You did not need to come, because your underling had the same power to give and take as you. So why did you?

I heard the question on your mark's lips. I saw the confusion and the irritability in his stance. Was this why? Did you enjoy - on some deep level - causing discomfort? Yes. You were a demon. Pain and suffering was your trough. That was all, surely? Because he was a bigoted fool and the bigotry and phobia and nastiness in his heart was exactly the kind of thing that drew him to your embrace to begin with. The evil, horrible things he did and said were part of what meant he belonged to you, and not to me. So when you mocked him for shying from your kiss, you did so only to cause pain. Not because you were making a point.

That was what I thought.

I could not have been more wrong.

***

Everything you did, you did for a reason. At first I thought I understood what that reason was. You were - understandably - looking out for yourself. That was your priority. First and foremost: you.

I couldn't really judge you on that front, though I tried. Most creatures are ultimately selfish in that way. Humans are frequently selfish. Even angels. We all want to continue to exist, though it is how we navigate the world of other people as we do so that is the true measure of our character.

Some days you were our ally.

Some days you were the adversary.

Some days I was not sure which you were, just that you were you as ever.

You frustrated me, because you acted too human at times. Too... normal.

If I closed my eyes to the after-effects, if I squinted and blocked out the eyes of an angel and just saw through the eyes of my vessel...

...I could have sworn, at times, that you were just like us.

***

It began with me watching you. The ending began with you watching me.

I could tell you were there. Much the same - most likely - as you had been able to hear my wings beat when I would land in the distance. 

These times we would never look at one another. It was an unspoken rule. An undeclared treaty. A truce. You broke that. You crossed the line. 

You were always crossing lines. You were always seeing how far you could go. It was never about cruelty, with you. It was always about that _rebellion_ , the need to test authority, the desire to pull at the tablecloth and see what happened. It was why you had kissed that man. It was why every other word past your lips was uncomfortable to listen to. It was why you were here, now.

It was why you were the King of Hell.

You just kept on pushing until you found that no one - not Lucifer, not God, not even the Winchesters - knew how to make you stop.

You kept pulling at people - making them question, making them shift in their seat, making them rethink _everything_ if they would only stop to listen... you kept pulling at them until you ripped them apart.

You never did it with a knife. Not truly.

You broke people with that silver, wicked, honest tongue. You said the things that were true and that we hid from. You challenged the comfortable lies, you put the glass before our eyes so we could see our reflections for what they were.

I did not realise it then, either.

You came to me, and you offered me a deal.

It sounded like a bad idea at the time.

I went through with it anyway.

***

What does it say for the world when the King of Hell is the most honest person I know? What does that say for me? 

Heaven had ever had its plans, its ineffable reasons... concealed from the rank and file and perpetuated throughout eternity. God - his Word and his Presence - were hidden from us. We were soldiers. We followed orders. We did as we were told.

We deceived the humans.

We manipulated them.

We were no better than you.

You were ever true to your word. Admittedly your word might be hidden in the smallest of print in the most ancient of tongues, but never once would you ever lie. Even your actions were true. You never claimed to be in it for anything or anyone but yourself. 

'I know what I am,' you had told me.

And you did.

You knew why you did things.

You did them for you.

You did not tell yourself a pretty lie about freedom. You did not sell yourself a broken message of 'for the greater good', or 'for my brother', or 'this is the right thing to do, I am not doing it for me'.

No.

You knew what you did was for you. And you did it. And you never lied that you wanted anything but that. You never dressed it in honey to slip down the throat. Your self-love was a bitter pill swallowed with stagnant water.

Demon.

***

I had lied. I had lied. I had lied to you, and I had lied to Sam, and I had lied to Dean.

I had lied to _me_.

Whore, you called me, but that was not the right word to use. Whore implied I sold myself out for gain. Whore implied I would let my morals slide for money. Whore implied I did not care whose bed I shared.

It was the wrong word, for the first time, the wrong word past your lips.

You should not have called me whore.

You should not even have called me Judas.

You should have called me Pharaoh. You should have called me Saul. You should have called me Lucifer.

No. 

None of those worked.

_Castiel_. That was still my name. But now my name meant pride. Now my name meant arrogance. Now my name meant unfaithfulness. Now my name meant sin.

***

Things happened. Lots of things happened. I fell, and I did not. I died, and I did not. I went not to Hell, but to Purgatory. And there I should have remained.

I had lied. I had lied to the brothers who chose me above the archangels. They were mine, those boys. I had dragged both from the maw of sin and given them back to the world. I was jealous of them, because I loved them. You knew they were a weakness, but they were not my only weakness.

I had betrayed those who trusted me. I had betrayed my kin. I had betrayed the Lord my Father, whose love I had ever craved and wanted, though I never saw His face. I betrayed even you.

I know you had seen me - I know you had seen me when I was not myself. I know you must have wanted to hurt me so very badly... but you did not. It would not have been revenge, would it? To take out your frustration on a creature newly born to the world. It would not have been satisfying enough. It would not have hurt _me_ , the faithless, the evil angel. 

I gave you honey.

You took my gift.

I was like you, almost. I saw the world truly, with the scales lifted from my eyes. I saw the dark in you and still I did not shy away. I spoke only truths, and it was pleasant. It was not to be. Gentle innocence does not last in this world, no matter how hard you try. The only honesty left is brutal, nasty, dark. Whispered evils in the night, with the pretty little lies of the day to get you through one more rise and fall.

Things happened. You were the enemy again. You were harder, now. Darker. I could see it when I looked at you from afar (and now you ignored me, you had gone back to the original rules. You would not turn to greet me, you would not offer me things. You would not walk beside me). 

You put your hand inside of me and it hurt, but I almost thought it should. I did not want you to find the tablet, but I also did not want you to hate me as much as you did. You hurt me, but it was... it was just pain. There was no peace to be found, after. 

We were enemies.

We fought.

We fell apart.

It was how things happened.

It was as it should have been, all along.

***

We had never made a deal. We had never sealed the terms. If we had, perhaps it would have worked. Perhaps we would have been able to define what was and was not acceptable. I should have. I should have specified my intents more clearly. I should have demanded. I had not.

Why?

We both knew it was an awkward partnership.

Why go into it blind?

Had you ever?

Had you ever gone in on trust alone?

I do not think so.

You trusted me.

I let you down.

***

You are the devil. You are sin. You are evil incarnate. You are the pit. You are damnation. You are Hell.

You are not the Father of Lies.

I look at you, now, here... you seal another deal. You do not do many, I do not often find you at work. When I do, I come to watch quietly from afar.

We still do not talk.

We still do not look.

You seal a deal and I wonder what was offered that brought you to the Earth this time. You who rule all Tartarus, but still will walk the face of the Earth. Would Lucifer? No. Would Abaddon? No. But you...

Why do you do it? Why do you come? Why did you ever come? Why did you ever say yes, the day you set your terms?

I could go back. I could go back in time to see. I could not change things - I could not offer new conditions, I could not convince you that your soul was worth saving, that underneath it all was something given to you as a gift for all time, not to be squandered on petty little gains... I could not because this is the world we live in. A world where you are King under the Mountain, and I am an angel of the Lord again. (Really, how many second chances had I earned? I must have my own guardian angel. I must.)

How do you pick the ones that mean something? Do they? Do they mean anything to you? They are souls, and soul are power, but you are not like the others. You are not like your kin.

Why them?

Why me?

You break the rules again. You turn and look at me. Our eyes meet over the distance. Neither one of us blinks. Neither one of us speaks.

Are you the devil, truly?

_Why would the devil show me my sin_ , then walk away and let me be forgiven and redeemed?

You are not lies. You are not even - simply - sin.

You are the perfect mirror for our darkness, the voice that calls out and tells us who we are. That declares us cheats, liars, bigots, thieves, murderers. You do not flatter us with false praise. You do not give us a way to escape from the truth. You spit our poison in our eyes until we burn.

You are justice.

I have been weighed.

Your eyes slide away from me.

Even the King of Hell knows.

_Castiel._

The name is smeared with tar.

It is time I washed the blood and stains from my wings.

It is time I flew back to Heaven.

It is all because of you.

I will be pure once more.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not for you, nor for you, nor for you. But - if you know why - it might just be for you.


End file.
